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300 HUNGARIAN FOLK-SONGS. |
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My horse has lost a shoe behind, the others they are worn, And I 'm afraid that none of them are safe.
" In my mantle the rain has soaked, and rotted its strength away,
I cannot hope for another ; no one will make a gift; I have my wallet still, but bare and empty it must stay ;
But that is not the worst of all my shrift.
" From my trimming of good wolf's fur the hair is falling out, Across my flagon's mouth the spider has spun a sheet;
The joys of youth have left me ; no one comes me about, To wash my sweated shirt and make it neat."
" For all the ills of life, my friend, one lives as best one may.
The blest rays of the sunshine still warm my heart and breast. When I can't eat, I light my pipe, and puff my care away.
Poor fellows live ; I live as do the rest."
THE FAIR ILONA.
" Heaven bless you, Judge, my lord, Keep your house In safe accord."
" What kind fortune Did you send To my house
Your steps to bend ? *
" I led my geese
To meadows green, |
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